Fire 1
 

U sure u want it, kause im built for this thang,
witta guiltless shame, and nuthin but fiflth in my brain/
dirt, grit, and pain, i burst bit of flames,
to disperse pricks from fame, will my thrist fit my frame/
thirst for the mic, and urge 2 clear the weaklings from the game,
yall absurd so fearless speakin is my aim/
kause all for u soft and most of u bitch,
yall awful w/ flaws while i potently spit, when i focus my lips/
tongue mind and heart, some find me smart,
w/ 1 rhyme to spark, i kan make u run find the art/
that i express effortlessly, the best blessin a beat,
witta hexed fetish for beef, got my flesh testin' the skreet/
the essence of it, witta infested covet,
diminished by unfinished business, so now only my chest kould love it/
u candy ass rappers, disgrace to the soundwaves,
watch'em race when the lb. raise, my handy ass clappers/
im tired of u pussys, the fires where u push me,
this is a vet tellin' yall 2 retire while u rookies/

Lines of the PO :gfy:

Yea, i slang 2 fiends,
how yall givin' me dollars for nicks, dimes, and quarters got me feeln' like a change machine/

1 Open Mic Per Day....Follow the Rules.